Immaculate
by Ramblepedia
Summary: Burt knew something was wrong as soon as he saw that his son's hair was messed up. (Pre-canon elaboration on the pee balloons comment from the Pilot episode.)


Another quick-write request for some Kurt-Burt interaction. Somewhat related to (in that it's a continuation of) chapter seven of my "The Many Time Kurt Hummel Lied About His Sexuality" fic though all you need to know is that Kurt is at the end of 8th grade and this is a further elaboration on the 'pee balloon' comment made in the Pilot episode. And it sort of took on a life of its own and turned into 'Burt Hummel accidentally tells his transparently closeted son to date Rachel Berry' among other things.

This may be part of a semi-ongoing series that I've dubbed 'Burt Hummel's Life with a Teenage Son.' I know I write about them a lot already but this and Initiation feel like a more cohesive pair. Probably because they definitely happen within the same universe and are related to the same fic. We'll see if this goes anywhere.

* * *

The first clue that something was wrong was seeing Kurt standing there, completely alone, staring off into the distance. His back was ramrod straight, his bad discarded on the ground. Burt pulled as close as he could get the car before getting out. Something told him he needed to get out. Kurt turned towards him when he shut the car door. That was when he saw the second clue: the teen's hair wasn't perfect.

If this had been any other boy that hair wouldn't have meant a thing. But this was _Kurt_. He spent more time fixing his hair than he did picking out his clothes for the next day. Which either of those alone took more time than his homework, cooking dinner, doing chores, hell just about anything Burt could come up with they took longer. Not quite as long as he imagined it took for Kurt to go through that skin care regimen he'd mentioned the last time they were at the store. The boy was experimenting with different cleansers and moisturizes. He insisted it was to fight the acne. There was some, now and again, but Kurt did a fantastic job of keeping it at bay. So whatever he was doing was working at least. Even if it looked like it took two hours to complete. On top of the time spent on the wardrobe and on that hair. That usually so perfectly groomed hair.

"Forget your comb?" he offered lightly. Kurt didn't even reach for his hair. There was the third clue.

"Yeah, yeah I uh, I cleaned out my bag last night and I forgot to put it back in." Burt paused from his approach. The fourth clue, and perhaps the biggest of all, was the smell. He stepped closer. It was definitely wafting off of his son. He got a very good whiff when the wind turned his way. Kurt turned and walked over to his bag. He started to reach for the book that had been discarded beside it but seemed to think better of it. "I think I pulled a muscle in gym today." Kurt didn't have gym today. It was Tuesday. He had gym on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Tuesday and Thursday were for health class. "Can you help me Dad?" He edged away as Burt walked over, collecting the discarded book and the bag in one easy motion. The book was wet.

"Kurt, what happened."

"In gym?" Burt turned his eyes to his son and waved the book at him. "Oh I just thought I heard something-"

"Don't lie to me. I know you're lying." Most days he'd humor his son's attempts to cover up the rougher parts of school. He remembered what it was like to be a young teen. Proud, believing he was independent, desperately wanting to prove to the world he could do it on his own. So he tried to give his son space to fight his battles and he'd come in when Kurt called for him. Of course he hadn't thought that his son would be attacked. Not in 8th grade, not this close to teachers' offices. He should have known better. The idea of a teacher seeing him had never halted his own pranks. But then he'd never done something like spray down a kid in piss. How did someone even accomplish that?

"Some guys thought it'd be a good prank. It's no big deal, honest."

"You're going to stand there smelling like a urinal and tell me it's no big deal? Kurt I know better. Who was it."

"Just some guys. I didn't even know them. They were high school kids." Burt slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Thank you. Now who else do I have to talk to tomorrow?" Kurt went white as a ghost.

"Please, don't do that, _Dad_."

"Get in the car." Kurt was frozen. Burt reached over to give him a push. Kurt's clothes were still wet. "How did they do this."

"Water balloons." As the man scanned the parking lot he noticed several colorful bits of plastic scattered around. If he looked closer he could see the spots. Too bad he hadn't brought his camera. Maybe Kurt was right about investing in one of those camera cell phones.

The teen hovered around the car. "Get in Kurt."

"But the seats."

"You're more important than a stinky car. I've got some people at the shop who can clean it anyway. In." This time his boy obeyed. Burt made sure to roll down his window before following. It was an extremely rancid smell.

They drove home in silence. There was one more question hanging over their heads but this one wasn't so easy to articulate. Kurt was gay, that much Burt was sure of, and he was pretty sure that Kurt's sexuality was what this attack had been about. He stood out in every crowd. No doubt whoever had done this had noticed that and had felt a need to lash out. While the attackers probably didn't realize it, their behavior was created out of insecurity and fear. An eight grade boy was sitting there completely unafraid to be himself in almost every way. Aside from being open about the kinds of people he was attracted to there was nothing Kurt seemed to hide. He went around like a proud peacock. As he had every right to. Burt wished he'd had that sort of confidence at fourteen. He didn't need to tell everyone he was gay either. He just lived his life, a very proud teen who didn't seem the least bit scared of who he was. That on its own was intimidating. Add to the mix that he could potentially be checking a guy out to make them further question their place in life and Kurt Hummel became the most threatening thing in the entire world. Because his mere existence made them look at themselves and wonder.

At least that was what Burt remembered realizing when he'd sat down and asked himself why he'd acted the way he had when he was in high school. It was probably different with those other kids. It didn't matter though. Burt wanted to sit Kurt down and make sure that this hadn't extinguished his light. Or even started to dim it. There was no polite way to ask either. He could out his son at the dinner table, but to what ends? To sound like a father who couldn't handle having a gay son? This was another thing, it seemed, that he would have to watch and wait to see what would happen.

"You go get cleaned up," he said when they stepped into the house. "I'll make dinner. Should be an hour or so, so take your time if you need to, ok?"

"Thanks Dad."

"No problem." Burt left the bag on the couch and opened the book to the center and set a fan to blow on it to get it dry. The pages were stained yellow. He was going to replace that book the first chance he got.

Kurt peeked back up out of his basement safe haven with about ten minutes to spare. Burt was only aware of him when he heard glass clinking on wood as the boy set the table. He looked over.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but what he saw wasn't it. Kurt looked the same as always. Clean and groomed and well dressed. Completely immaculate. He hadn't changed at all. "The clothes are soaking with some oils now. A website suggested I boil them to get the smell out before washing them. But I don't want to ruin them."

"We can take them to the dry cleaners, say a baby got you." Kurt looked over at him. His eyes were wide and bright.

"It could get costly."

"Eh, I know how much you like that outfit. You've worn that exact combination at least four times in the last two months. That's a record."

"You've noticed?"

"Of course I did. You showed it off to me when we got home that day too, remember? I'm not much of a fashion expert but it does look extra good." Something about his words seemed to send his kid to the moon. He watched as Kurt shifted his weight and sunk his fingers into an innocent chair to hold in his excitement. Whatever those kids had done to him, he hadn't changed. Burt brought the food to the table. "You going to tell me what happened? Besides the balloons part. Why were there high school kids at the middle school?" Kurt's joy abated instantly. He sunk into his chair.

"They were talking about the importance of clubs and sports in high school. That was our whole last period actually. I guess they didn't have to go back to the high school after it either. This one kid thought it would be good, I guess, to teach some eight graders where their place would be when they were Freshman. Mine is with the other artsy kids I guess. Not very popular."

"Was that all there was to it?" Kurt sat silent for a moment. "You can talk to me Kurt. You can tell me anything." Maybe he shouldn't have spoken. Kurt started eating.

"That was it. But I'm going to show them wrong. Someday they'll all work for me...probably at the tire shop. But still. They'll work for me." Burt chuckled at the response. He was right of course. A lot of those kids, if they got stuck in Lima, were probably going to wind up working at places like their shop. And he was already guaranteed to be running it one day if he wanted to. He already had a good idea how to manage the basics - balance the drawers, keep everything organized, deal with customers, fix the basic problems with the cars. He was smart and a quick thinker. But unlike those other kids he wasn't going to get stuck in Lima. Burt knew where his son was heading. Straight to Broadway. It was going to hurt when he left but it was also going to be the proudest day of this dad's life. Somehow despite everything he'd done in his life, he was doing something right with his son. This kid was turning out ok.

Which gave Burt hope that he knew that he could count on his dad too.

"Alright, I'll talk to the principle tomorrow. Of the high school. Don't worry, he doesn't know me yet so you're still fine for a while. I'll see if I can't get him to have a talk with those kids."

"That's it?" Kurt sounded relieved. Burt reached over and patted his arm.

"That's it."

"You don't have to you know."

"I want to. High school is tough enough as it is. And besides, as willing as I am to foot the bill for your dry cleaning this time, that'll get expensive if we have to keep doing it." Burt meant that to be a joke. He didn't realize the thoughts he could be putting in Kurt's head with that little comment. "Now eat up, I think one of those musicals you like so much is on tonight. A couple of guys who brought their car in were going on and on about it, couldn't get them to shut up. They had one of your classmates with them." Burt had caught on to them. The way they stood so close, the way the little girl held both of their hands in her own. They were a couple and she was their daughter. Maybe if Kurt made friends with her he could meet some people that could help him out.

"Who?"

"Rachel."

"Ick. She's annoying. She's so full of herself." Burt shrugged.

"She likes musicals."

"I'm not interested in her." Burt paused and sat up a little.

"I wasn't implying you should be Kurt. Just that she might know things about musicals that I don't. She's someone you could talk to I guess."

"I'd rather get hit with pee balloons again."

"Ok, alright. It was just a suggestion. Finish your dinner. The movie won't wait for you." Kurt hurried. The meal was gone in moments. And he was just as immaculate when he'd finished as he had been when he started. He was quite the amazing kid.


End file.
